Verismilitude
by LittleMissMorbid
Summary: Derek's got Casey, but how long is he going to keep her before Casey says enough is enough? DASEY. First few chapters are short.
1. Chapter 1

I'm a big fan of dasey, and its fanfiction in particular, but one thing I noticed with many is that they're simply not realistic. Realism is what I'm aiming for, here. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to share them with me. If not, enjoy.

I do not own Life with Derek. If I did, it wouldn't be legal for small children to watch it.

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When Casey walked through the door, fuming, hair mussed and cheeks red, she uttered one name in an almost guttural roar. _"DEREK!"_

"Hey, Space Case. Nice outfit." Derek remarked, smirking. 

"Not only did you forget to pick me up from practice, you took my bag home so I'd have to walk in the rain!"

"Who says I forgot, sister dearest?"

"Exactly." Casey muttered. 

When Nora didn't offer an interjection, and neither did George (both of whom were in the kitchen, massaging rapidly growing headaches), Casey glared at the boy idly propped up on the couch.

"Dad and Nora decided to ignore our _squabbles._" Derek explained, his smirk growing wider.

"We wouldn't _have _squabbles if _somebody _I know would just grow up!"

"Oh, Casey, Casey, Casey. I think it's you. You see, the stick that's been shoved up your ass since the day you were born has prevented you from having any harmless fun. Not to mention a real love life, a reputation, and actual friends besides the stalker next door."

"Harmless fun! Derek, people get pneumonia from rain, and they _die!_"

Derek stared at her for a second, acting as he was deep in thought. "Yeah, I don't see the problem there, Space Case."

Bewildered and more than a little hurt, Casey surrendered the battlefield for the day and ran up the stairs. Derek heard her take a fall. "Nice move, Klutzilla!" 

"Stupid Derek. Stupid rain. Stupid cheerleading." Casey ranted to herself as she peeled her varsity uniform off. "Stupid boyfriends. Aren't they supposed to be nice and caring and devote themselves to you? No, that's too much to ask of macho, manwhore Derek!" 

Flopping onto her bed, she sighed to herself. "He's mean, conniving, selfish, and inconsiderate. So why the hell am I dating him again?"

"You're a masochist, freak." Derek offered from her bedroom doorway.

Casey scoffed. "Masochist? Call the news, Derek figured out what a dictionary was!"

"Oh, that stings, Princess. But who's the girl who's a glutton for pain? And now that I think of it, food?"

Casey narrowed her eyes at him. "You. Take. That. Back."

"Well, Case, think about it. In your love life, all you dated were assholes who never made it past the six month mark."

"Assholes like the one I'm dating now?" Casey asked hotly.

Derek ignored her. "You embarrass yourself by falling over nonexistent stairs and rocks; you depend on _Paul _to direct your life, and you waste hours perfecting every page of your homework. Hours which could be spent boosting your rep, but it's okay—I know dating me is enough to make you feel popular enough."

"Derek—" Casey was standing up now, dangerously close to stabbing a pen in one of his eyes.

"Ah, ah! And to top it off, you exercise like a maniac to get rid of the pounds that you'll _never _lose."

Instead of using the pen, Casey shoved him back with all her might, tears already glittering in her eyes. The door slammed in his face, and Derek sighed. God, she was so moody. Didn't she know he didn't mean it? That it was for show?

The sick part was that part of him enjoyed screaming those razorsharp words at her. He didn't love her, but he did care for her (who knew how much, though) and yet he enjoyed getting a rise out of her, reducing her to tears of surrender. 

Oh well, he thought, it isn't my fault. Habits are hard to break.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner was just as dramatic, even with the lack of the family's interjection of their earlier fight. Marti threw a temper tantrum about there being no macaroni and cheese, Edwin spilled an entire platter of salad dressings, and Lizzie complained about the waste of said dressings.

Marti, fully over the exempt cheesy pasta, spoke about her day. "And then Nathan said I couldn't eat a rock, and I said I would, and then he said he'd give me a whole quarter if I would, but the recess teacher caught me and made me sit down on the bench the _whole _time!"

George spoke of a difficult client he'd had, and still had the raging headache he'd had before. Nora told him to take some ibuprofen and that was that.

Derek kept making comments on Casey's choice of food. "Sure you want _that_ much butter, Case?"

"Derek!" Nora hissed, fully fed up with his inexorable comments.

Her warning didn't stick, though, because Edwin let out a loud burp and the boys erupted into hysterical laughter. 

Lizzie sighed, sending a sympathetic glance to her sister. Casey pretended not to notice and continued eating her rice.

It was Casey's turn to wash the dishes, and Derek's turn to dry. They stood side-by-side in silence, the only sound permeating the air around them being the clanking of the dishes.

Lizzie and Edwin zipped off to search for the baby birds they'd heard the night before, and Marti was fully occupied in the bath Nora was running for her. George was safely locked in his bedroom, willing his headache away.

Derek watched her for a few minutes. "I like your hair down. It looks nice." 

Casey ignored him. Derek was not easily discouraged.

He set the last plate down and stood against her back, massaging her shoulder blades. Even in her anger, Casey's head drooped slightly as he eased the tension. 

"So, how was your day?" Derek asked, his voice actually void of sarcasm.

"How do you _think _it was, Derek?" Casey snapped, furiously scrubbing a fork, the tension quickly returning. 

"Why are you getting mad at me? All I did was ask you how you goddamn day was!"

"I realize your IQ is fairly low, Derek, but even you should be able to figure it out. Think. How about because you managed to make it ten times worse?"

"Casey…" he said softly. "I told you why I had to do that."

Casey stared at him with such hate he almost flinched. "Shut up, Derek. Just shut up."

She dried her hands hastily, and left him standing in the kitchen.

"Fuck." Derek whispered, closing his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

When he lay in bed, staring at his ceiling, he faintly realized it was one in the morning and he still wasn't asleep. Propping himself up, he flung his blankets off and tiptoed out of his room, waiting momentarily at the door next to his.

He closed the door, as quietly as he could. "What the fuck are you doing!" Casey whispered angrily. He came closer to her, and she turned on her bedside lamp. 

"C'mere." He said simply, sitting down, his back resting against her knees.

"Derek, you idiot. No!" Casey whispered, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Come on…" he said, letting the syllables out slowly.

"I'm still mad at you, you ass. What makes you think I want anything to do with you and your pea-sized brain?"

"I can handle staying here all night, you know."

"Enjoy sleeping on the floor." Casey snarled.

"Casey…" he said softly, gazing at her in that way he knew made her knees weak. He briefly touched her face. "Casey, Casey, Casey…"

She held a strong face. Pressing his cheek against hers, he whispered, _"Casey."_

In that instant her face softened, and she pulled her blankets back to allow him to crawl next to her.

He tried to kiss her; she deterred him.

"I'm still mad at you." She said softly, unconvincingly.

"You're not fat," he stated, kissing her neck, "And you look hot in that uniform."

It was the closest she'd ever get for an apology, she knew. "You are a frustrating, pig-headed, revolting human being, Derek Venturi. I never get my seven hours of sleep when I'm around you."

"Mmm." He murmured, making his way to her lips.

She tilted her head towards him, and allowed him to grab her closer. He bit her neck in that way that made her tingle; raked his fingernails against her flesh; made her gasp.

Running his fingers roughly through her hair, he murmured, staring up at her, half-plagued with desire, "Still mad at me?"

"Yes." Casey sighed, placing her head in the crook of his neck. 

"You smell good." He murmured.

"I know," she said lightly, "But don't think I don't know where that hand of yours is going, Venturi."

He growled playfully in her ear.

"Shush, idiot. Let me sleep."

He wanted to ask her to lie beside him, but to gain some brownie points he let her fall asleep against him.

He liked the smell of mangoes, anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

I tried to make this longer, because I promised myself I'd write longer chapters. I'd write more for chapter 4, but it's 9 here and I'm barely awake. Thank you to the people that watched/commented, I really appreciate your support, and this one goes out for you guys. 

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Casey awoke the next morning with a shrill beeping sound screeching in her left ear. She grumbled, lazily looking for the snooze button. She couldn't find it. The clock therefore continued its inexorable cries. Casey yanked the cord out of the socket, silence abruptly following. Fingering the blankets resting on top of her, Casey blearily remembered the events of the night before and found herself pondering on whether she should smile or scowl. Derek did those things to her; muddled her every sense, muddled her logic, and sometimes, just _sometimes, _she felt it was unbearable.

Still lying on her mattress, allowing the warmth of her quilts to keep her locked in her sleepy daze, she sighed. Boys were really frustrating.

Slipping two slim feet into bunny slippers, she padded out into the hallway, where, yet again, silence greeted her. The bathroom wasn't occupied either. Casey found this suspicious. Normally she had to scream at Derek until she was hoarse. Instead of taking the opportunity while it lasted, Casey headed down the stairs instead, toward the kitchen.

Voices did not greet her. Casey, fully confused by this point, realized her entire family wasn't even up yet. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, stepped into the kitchen, and there sat Derek, idly sipping on black coffee with an air of arrogance that irritated her.

"Derek," she began gently, barely stifling her anger, realizing that Derek had something to do with the odd demeanor of her household, "Why are we the only ones up?"

He didn't even look at her. "Probably because I set your alarm to go off at five."

"You _what?_" She hissed icily.

"Just a guess, Case." He said smoothly, setting the green mug in the sink. His hair was damp, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. Casey grudgingly admitted to herself that he looked attractive in this moment. That was what got her into all this trouble in the first place.

"I'm going back to bed."

"Casey." Derek said her name in a certain way that always made her come back. She would never tell him this, of course, because he would use it for perverse reasons. She turned to him, avoiding his eyes, still fuming, but mostly over her lack of control; that was Derek. The one always getting the best of her.

"I need to talk to you." He said seriously. Casey eyed him in distaste. 

"Why can't we talk here?" 

Derek sighed, closed his eyes for a moment. "_Because, _Case. Just because."

Casey stared at him for a second, unsure of whether to proceed with a snarky comment or an equally serious gesture.

She sighed. "Okay."

She shuffled toward the stairs, planning on a nice shower. 

"Hey, Casey?" Derek called softly, his smirk evident in his voice, "Do you mind if I watch?"

Casey glowered at him.

"Only if you want to never have children again."

"Is that a threat, Princess?"

Casey simply sauntered away. 

---------------

"_Why _are we leaving so early again?" Casey grumbled, rubbing her hands in an attempt to keep warm. It was January, and the cold would be here a while. Seeing as how Casey lived in Canada now. In Texas, the cold was never an issue. Even in a thick parka, Casey was freezing.

Derek started the car, the heat blaring. He ignored her whining, pulling out into the street and heading to the local Starbucks where he could purchase a cheap shut-Casey-up beverage that would not only please him but her as well.

"_Derek!" _ She began, whining again, "Where the hell are we going?"

"Casey," Derek said, fully annoyed, "Please shut up. I'm trying to drive, and the screeching noise otherwise defined as your voice is distracting me." Actually, it was the tight jeans, but he wasn't big on compliments. She'd gush over him. He hated gushing.

"You never treat me like a girlfriend." She muttered, "Even when we're alone."

She's right, he thought, and something tells me I'm going to screw up a few thousand more times until I get this right. He inwardly let out a groan. A few thousand moments of Casey's whining, nagging, and retorts. Fun. 

The rest of the drive was oddly silent, and uncomfortable. Casey fiddled with the radio, until he swatted her hand away. He could feel her pouting. _God, _she was annoying when she pouted.

Pulling into the driving lot, Casey's pouting changed into a sort of temporary truce, just until she got her frappicino; she would be snarky after.

She ordered, the bustling and loudness of the early birds not deterring her mission of getting her caffeine. He stared at her the whole time (particularly her ass, of course) without shame. She was getting caffeine, he was getting his hormones settled down.

She pulled out a bill, but he quickly put down a twenty, avoiding her eyes purposely just so he wouldn't see the obvious sentiment in them. They plopped into the large, fluffy chairs, oddly exhausted.

"What did you want to talk about?" Casey asked distractedly, waiting for her coffee.

He sighed. God, this was going to be hard. Admitting his faults. He hated admitting things.

"Well…" he began, "I just wanted to say I know—"

"Casey? Derek?" a familiar voice cried, "Oh my God! Hi!" Derek groaned, burying his face in the palm of his hands. No, no, no, no, _no. _

Kendra walked over saucily, eyeing him. He watched her with a certain disappointment and anger. _Damn you, Kendra, for being so goddamn social. Damn _you, _Venturi, for taking Casey to the most over populated coffee shop in Canada._

"So guys, what's up?" Kendra chirped, planting her ass onto the table between them.

"_Nothing._" Derek muttered in a strained voice. Kendra began to talk, mostly to herself, and Derek pretended to listen. Casey watched him with curious eyes, sipping her coffee that _he _had paid for.

_Damn it. _


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys, here's the next installment. I hope you enjoy it. I' m going to try my best to update daily. I appreciate your support!

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Once Derek had managed to escape from Kendra's incessant chattering by lamely stating that "the grade-grubber needed to get to school early", he felt lethargic. Perhaps because he spent agonizing over what he'd say to Casey. And then Kendra came along, and his numerous pep talks and confidence builders had just crashed all around him. What had he been thinking? Derek didn't _do _cutesy crap like buy coffee and have heart-to-hearts about his flaws.

Casey did, and that was what was driving him nuts. Everything about her opposed every single one of his personality traits. In the beginning, it was what initially attracted him, he supposed; the way she could keep him on his toes, make him think of new ways to torture her, think of new biting retorts. He did care about her, but not enough to prove it, not enough to do something to prove he wanted to keep her around. He was taking the easy way out. He always did.

"Are you going to start the car?" Casey muttered, jolting him out of his thoughts. 

He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Don't worry, Case. You aren't going to have your virginal record ruined today."

"Unlike yours," Casey commented coolly. She took her compact mirror out, fixed her hair. Derek eyed her for a second, feeling almost sick, because she looked vaguely like Kendra then. Kendra had been a mistake. He wasn't sure yet if Casey was a mistake too.

He started the car, barely missing the Volkswagen that honked at him as he backed out.

"Derek! God, watch where you're going! I'd like to get to school intact." She snapped. "You're so damn _idiotic _sometimes."

"Better than being an Obsessive-Compulsive freak that can't get a date."

"Only because you refuse to take me on any."

"What can I say, I don't do clichéd romance."

"You know, Derek, you don't even _act _like a boyfriend."

"I would, but _somebody's _too virginal to let me be one."

"Relationships _aren't _about sex, Derek. Normal ones, anyway. But I hardly think you'd know anything about _normal _relationships."

"You mean like yours?" he scoffed, "I'll stick with my dysfunctional ones any day."

"Says the boy supposedly dating his stepsister."

He pulled into the school parking lot with a hard jolt, anger quickly rising. 

"What are you trying to say, _Case?_" he snarled, "I'm not good enough for you?"

She almost smirked. "Hardly. I could do much, much worse." She fiddled with her backpack. "I've got to go." 

"We have an hour, Princess. You aren't leaving this car until—"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Casey yelled indignantly.

He kissed her roughly. "Fine. I guess I'll just weaken your defenses, then."

Her eyes bore into his, full of fire. "You know what, Derek? I'm sick of this. I'm sick of _you._" She spat out, her tone laced with hate.

He was struck with a split moment of surprise, but that moment was long enough for Casey to hurl the car door open and leave in haste.

Derek sighed, rested his head against the window. Nothing was ever good enough for her. The ironic thing was they'd gotten along sometimes, at least, when they hadn't started their relationship, but now that they were dating, it seemed to be a vicious free-for-all in which the two of them tried to hurt the other as much as they could.

The incompatibility of them was starting to take its toll, and Derek could feel the faint sense of a final blow-out, and an end to them. Completely.

----------------

Casey, boiling with anger, flung the blue school doors open and headed to the one place she needed to go most: Paul's.

When she opened his door viciously, Paul sighed, simply sipping his coffee. "Take a seat." Casey obeyed, finding comfort in the familiar ripped cushions and the faint smell of old, withered books.

Paul's desk was in complete disarray, and he himself looked completely exhausted. It was in that instant that Casey realized her relationship with Derek wasn't just affecting her; it was affecting everyone she cared about or come into contact with.

Her relationship with Derek was like a plague.

Paul cleared his throat. "So. I'm assuming it's Derek again?" 

She sighed. He knew her too well. It would be easier if she could tell him the truth, tell him _why _everything was so much worse than before, so much more destructive, but she couldn't. She knew Paul knew that something was going on, that something out of the ordinary, but she hoped at least that he couldn't pinpoint the _why_.

"He's constantly insulting me, Paul. And it's not like before. We're both having these screaming matches, trying to one-up each other, trying to win this game of…of something. I don't know what, Paul, but it's not just affecting us. George and my mother have officially stopped trying to ease the fights, and it's only a matter of time before it affects Lizzie and Edwin and Marti too."

Paul watched her slump in her chair, tiredness and surrender in her eyes. She was falling apart, too, and he could see that. She was the one suffering the brunt of it, overall, and he hoped he could fix it before something truly awful happened.

"Casey," Paul said gently, "I think you're both fighting for control. You're both stressed about something, and you're expressing it through anger and a desire to inflict pain. Have you tried to sit down and talk, actually _talk, _to Derek about this? About how hurtful and bad it is for not just you and him, but the rest of the family?"

"No," Casey muttered darkly, "It's _Derek_. He wouldn't listen to me, just call me fat or a freak and close the door on me."

"You need to try. Try to talk to him, because if you don't try, you won't know if Derek realizes this too. And maybe, for the sake of the family, you two could agree to ease up." 

"But we don't know how to, Paul! That's the worst part of this whole thing!"

"Talk to him. And if you can get through to him, then we can set up weekly appointments together in my office. I can help you Casey, but you need to make sure you help _him _too."

"Okay, Paul. I'll try." Casey said weakly, unable to think of any other excuse or concern. She would try, just this once. 

Something had to be done.

The bell rang shrilly, causing Casey to flinch, and she stood up.

"Thanks, Paul. I know my stress is wearing on you too." 

And before Paul could lie and deny that, she was out the door. Paul sighed. He really, really hoped that this would end soon. It had the potential to ruin a lot of relationships and cause psychological damage.

-----------------------

When Casey shut the door behind her, Derek grabbed her before she could dart away from him.

"Derek," Casey said, before he could utter a word, "Tonight, midnight. We need to talk." She looked at him seriously. 

"Why would I want to talk to you?" he said icily.

"Just be there," Casey snapped, and left before he could grab her.

He scoffed.

He knew exactly where this was going.

His question had been answered: Casey was officially the biggest mistake he had made.


	6. Chapter 6

Last night I had a dream about this boy named Darren, and I hit on his stepsister, who, before I had hit on her, had been complaining to me about Darren. After she expressed her distaste, I bumped into 'Darren' and, for some inexplicable reason, grew absolutely smitten with him. So anyway, I doggedly pursued him all day at school, and by the end of the day we were apparently dating, and making out in the room where his band practiced. Seeing any parallels here? He also had a sister named Lizzie, and I told him he was making fun of my LWD obsession. Then I woke up, more than a little disturbed.

Why disturbed? Well, I'm one hundred percent lesbian, that's why.

Very odd dream. 

In regards to this chapter and story in general, to the reviewers that have asked questions, I can't answer them. That would give the story away, and that would be sad. I will tell you, though, that _all _of your questions will be answered by the end of this. 

This chapter isn't that great. I'm in the middle of a HUGE research paper, but I'm trying to do this on the side for you guys…

Ahh, so stressful….

Again, I don't own Life With Derek. If I did, every episode would be leading to Dasey, then we'd grow all nauseated by the fluff at the end. 

I have no idea what their teachers' names are, or Casey and Derek's timetables, so let's just go with it.

Enjoy, my faithful readers!

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"Casey!" 

Casey heard her name being called, of course, but was too angry to turn her head. She didn't want to talk to anyone, including Emily. _Especially _Emily.

"Casey!" the voice called again, and Emily grabbed Casey's arm. Inwardly, Casey sighed, but outwardly she gave Emily a half-assed smile. Emily was out of breath, looking at Casey in bewilderment.

"There's something weird going on with you, Casey." Emily stated, eyeing her friend in worry, "you've never been so…_out _of it. Did something happen?"

"_No_, Em, nothing's wrong." She lied, fully knowing her best friend would never believe her.

"But—"

"Let it go, Em." Casey said between gritted teeth, and headed into French. 

Her teacher greeted her with a smile, and Casey couldn't even muster the energy to smile back. She wanted to sleep. To just get out of the nightmare that was currently her life.

Casey's French class was currently covering a section on the history of France, more specifically its romantic period.

It was official, she thought as her teacher's voice droned, eventually becoming a steady hum in her ears, I'm in hell.

The French class eventually ended, and Casey wanted to get out as fast as possible but her teacher stopped her. She let her shoulders slump, clearly stating how much she did _not _want to be there.

"Casey," her teacher asked, "is anything wrong?"

"No." she said abruptly, darting away before he could ask anything else.

If _anyone _else asked her what was wrong, she was going to explode. Really, she was.

"Goddamn boyfriends," she muttered. 

----------------------------------------------

Unaware of Casey's own torments, Derek was in much the same situation she was in. Sam had already queried him on his mood, and so had Ralph,who had stated Derek must be "in a dating slump" or "on his man period".

"Not everyone can stay on top forever, D." Ralph said, completely oblivious to Derek's seething.

His teachers, of course, did not care about his mental/emotional state, for he never cared about theirs. The feeling was mutual. He passed though his classed relatively unscathed.

But then lunch came, and that was where the horrors of his day truly began.

Casey would be there. She would be there, looking away, picking at her vegetarian sandwich, and making him feel even worse about their current predicament. 

Slowly he walked into the lunchroom, fully aware of certain girls' eyes on him. None of them were Casey's.

Howls and catcalls flew past him as he sat down in a slump, wishing he hadn't chosen to make an appearance—but he was Derek Venturi. He simply _had _to be there.

Pretending to be interested in Sam's comments, Derek had the slightest twinge of envy toward Casey, who obviously decided to hide in the library.

As nerdy and as lame as it was, he felt he'd rather be with her than here.

------------------------

Casey munched on a carrot stick, reading the first line in her book for the hundredth time. In exasperation, she put her book down. Read? How was she supposed to read at a time like this?

I know what I'll do, Casey thought, with a burst of optimism, I'll write a list of the things I'll say to Derek.

Neatly, on her grape-scented paper, she wrote, _Things to tell Derek_.

She twisted a strand of hair. He was an utter jerk. Could she write that down? No, they'd start arguing again. Maybe she should tell him how she felt, about his insults.

No, he would make a comment about being overly sensitive.

Their relationship? No, they hardly had one. That was the whole point of the list!

Oh, face it, Casey thought in growing surrender, I don't even know what I'm going to _start _with.

"Maybe…" she whispered to herself, "Maybe I should remind him of how things _were_."

She stared down at her paper.

"Maybe I should show him how much we've changed, how _this _has changed us."

_Ohh…_

Casey sighed in worry.

_But how?_

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	7. Chapter 7

I've decided to focus solely on Derek and Casey's interaction and relationship in this story, so there will be few occurrences in which Sam or anyone else appears for more than three seconds. I suppose that contradicts my wish on this being _realistic, _but I'm aiming for realism in Derek/Casey relationship. 

Therefore other annoying characters keeping me from my current psychoanalysis of the two will easily be dismissed. Kthx.

I hope you guys like it anyway, even without the other characters.

Note: I replaced this chapter to fix some typos and put some dividers in that would recognize, because apparently some symbols aren't.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When the bell rang, signifying the end of his horrific, tiring, all-around shitty day, Derek joined the erratic bustle of students to the parking lot. He just needed to get to the car. Then he could drive home, slam his headphones on, and pretend today never happened.

"Derek!" Sam called. 

He stiffened at the call of his name. He _knew _he had hockey practice today, but really, he didn't even want to be _conscious _right now.

"Hey, D, forget about practice?" Sam asked, jogging up to him.

"I don't feel well." Derek lied, not even attempting to feign a cough.

"But you _have _to come! You're captain!"

"Deal with it, Sam, okay? I'm going home." Derek said curtly.

He pulled open the car door, threw his bag in the back, and started the engine. He left without a second glance at his best friend.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Casey sighed, shutting the door behind her and locking it, finally glad she was alone; no Derek, no parents, no siblings. She'd had the _worst _day, what with Em watching her like a hawk and having to avoid Derek all day.

Derek. Thank God he had practice. She needed some time to think. She headed up the stairs, setting her pack on her bedroom floor, deciding to take a bath to help her relax. 

The sound of the running water soothed her nerves as she stepped out of her clothing, folding it neatly and setting it on the toilet lid. Applying a generous amount of bubble bath, she sank into the warmth with a contented sigh.

Surely, with a relaxed mindset, she could think of things to say to him. "You're so complicated, though." She whispered to herself. "I mean, you told me—" The sound of the doorknob jiggling jolted her out of her thoughts. 

Before she could even rise out of the water, Derek had successfully infiltrated into her content mood.

"Well, _hello._" Derek said, a smirk growing on his face. He shut the door behind him. "What have we here?"

"Derek," she growled, "Get out!" His eyes glinted with mischief. 

"I'm serious!" Casey protested.

Leaning against the wall and sliding down to be level with her, he whispered into her ear, "So am I." His breath sent tingles down her spine.

"Derek. Get _out. _I don't need Mom or George walking in on us to top off the day I had."

"What would we be doing?" Derek asked slyly, raising his brows.

"_I_ would be killing. _You _would be dying."

He heard the familiar roar of his parent's car. "Sure, Case. Sure." He told her, and left the bathroom as silently as he had entered.

Casey rammed her fists into the water below her, causing large amounts of water to spill over the brim of the tub. 

"Great." Casey remarked. "_Great._"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dinner was silent. Casey opted to not eat, despite relentless coaxing from Lizzie. She stayed locked in her room, not at all comforted by the fact that Derek was really just a floor below her. She could feel him, his presence, just…_everywhere. _

_Even when we're not in the same room we're still fighting. _

Casey suffered from the unease leaking from the thought for a long time, shifting her position on her bed subconsciously, not aware of anything but her own anxiety. Her heart was ramming against her chest, and her hands were shaking.

Sometime later, midnight or so, when Derek entered her room with a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich with milk, she barely stifled her scream.

"God, Case, it's just food." Derek remarked dryly.

"It's not that." She muttered in reply, sitting up and picking at the nonexistent lint on her bedspread, "I'm just really anxious."

He shoved the food in her lap, plopped down beside her, and promptly rid of the milk by gulping it down. Casey simply viewed all of this with a glare. She set the sandwich aside, reorganizing her thoughts and anger for a different time, and looked at him.

"The reason I wanted to talk was—" Casey began, fiddling with her hair.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Derek interjected, "Because if you are, please save the 'I'll spare his feelings' speech for someone who really cares."

Casey gave him a thin smile, devoid of any real emotion, and a glassy stare. "You know, Derek, I don't understand you. Three months, it was great. You kissed me, you hugged me, you acted like you _cared, _Derek."

Derek didn't hold her gaze. "Yeah, well. Shit happens, Case. Get used to it."

"I was going to tell you that Paul wanted to talk to us together, so we could think of more positive ways to communicate instead of screaming at each other all the time. But clearly, since you don't care, it's not something you'd want to waste your time with, so never mind. There's the door and," she took the plate with the sandwich, tossing it in his lap, "there's your sandwich."

"Casey…Casey, I'm sorry." He sighed, not sure of whether he was trying to get back into her good graces or actually sorry. It didn't matter.

"You're sorry?" Casey echoed flatly. "For what, Derek? For treating me like I should be treated for three months, and then treating me like shit for the rest of our relationship? We've been together five months, Derek, _five. _And two of those months were a _complete _waste of my time."

Derek stared at her, mostly confused. 

She gave him a rueful smile. "I guess the time you kissed me out in the park, where you told me our relationship would work, just give it a chance, Case…I guess that whole thing was a lie, wasn't it? And I fell for it, so now I'm officially on your list of girls. Congratulations, Derek. You got the one girl no one thought you would, and you fooled her. Feel extra-special, Derek?"

"_Casey." _He uttered her name in a thick sort of passion that she almost listened to him. Almost.

"Just go, Derek."

Derek, at the end of the night, was left with a sandwich he was no longer hungry for, and fifty million emotions hitting him all at full force.

Casey had broken up with him. _Him. _

At this sudden realization, he quickly walked into his room, shutting the door.

He silenced his screams with his pillow.

There was something he was feeling. It was hard and heavy, and sharp and painful, and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe.

He distinctly felt the pressure of his bones, the creaking of his joints, the rush of adrenaline through his veins; his muscles pulsed, strained as if he were running. His head was loud and crazy and overwhelming. Oh god he was going crazy.

In less than two minutes it was over. His body quickly went limp, his bones cracking into place. He breathed deeply, feeling exhausted, as if he'd….well, as if he'd had _sex, _but without the good parts.

Casey made him crazy.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Even as Derek muffled his screams with his pillow, Casey wasn't unaware of his experience. He was right next to her, practically.

He had a panic attack.

Over her.

Derek had a panic attack over Casey. 

Casey, who had just broken up with him minutes before.

So, he had lied. Somewhere in there, there was the Derek that cared about her. So why wasn't he the one talking to her, instead of this cruel persona he brought out to play in her presence?

Tonight was supposed to be about answers, and all it left her with were more questions.

She battled between the decision of staying put or checking on Derek. The latter was honestly the more tempting.

She tiptoed out of her room, opened his door, snuck in sleekly. Derek, in the shadows of his room, was facing his wall, his body completely still except for the periodic breaths he took.

"Derek…" She whispered, "Do you need anything? Water?"

"No, Casey, I don't need a _fucking _thing. Not from you." His voice was heavy, laced with the passion she'd heard earlier.

Casey, deciding to push him further, sat beside him.

"Casey. Seriously. You just broke up with me. _Why _the fuck are you here?"

"I…I wanted to…to help." 

Derek sat up abruptly, facing her, his body pressing against hers and his own lips dangerously close to her own. "You've done enough." He whispered, in a low growl, so low she barely heard it.

She remembered what Paul said.

"Derek, why can't we just go to Paul's, and go from there?"

"I'm _not _going to Paul's. Deal with it, Casey."

"I really hope you do," she said softly, "because I really didn't mean what I said before."

With that gentle statement, she left the room, the soft _click _of the door telling him what she said was real.

In the silence, he stared at the spot Casey had been only seconds prior.

"I didn't mean it either, Case."


	8. Chapter 8

I actually liked writing this chapter. I got to delve into the psychological stuff, and I find enjoyment in that sort of thing, because, well, I have no life.

Again, thanks for all my readers' support!

Enjoy.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So, Derek," Paul began, one eyebrow carefully raised, "What exactly seems to be the problem here?" Derek smirked, rubbed the back of his neck. Fidgeted some more.

"Nothing. You know Space Case. She goes nuts if wrinkles are in her sheets."

"Does she? Really?" Paul asked, momentarily distracted from his goal. Derek smirked again.

Paul coughed, returning to business. "Derek, there's something wrong here. Never in all the time that I've known Casey have I seen her this…nervous. It's like she's been shaken to the core. And I _know _you have something to do with it."

"There's nothing going on, Paul." Derek maintained, keeping his tone even.

"So if I ask Casey to come in and have her tell me what's _really_ going on, she'll tell me the same thing? Because it didn't seem like that when I saw her yesterday."

"Yes." Same even tone. Paul noticed Derek's fidgeting was subtly becoming worse, could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"I'll just let her in, then." Paul said smoothly, taking long strides and opening the door to allow Casey in.

"Hey, freak." Derek drawled, "Did they finally realize what a nutcase you are and send you here to live forever?"

"Why do you say that, Derek?" Paul quickly interjected before Casey could get a word out. Casey sat in the chair beside Derek, shooting daggers at her nemesis.

"Because," Derek said, as if it were crystal clear, "She's _Casey._"

"So because she's _Casey_, as you say, you can't treat her with some common respect?" Paul noticed Casey's victorious smile. "That goes for you too, Casey."

"Of course he can't, Paul, because that would imply that he possessed certain qualities such as maturity, kindness and empathy."

"You forgot ravishingly handsome," Derek shot back, smirking.

"How about bigoted and egotistic instead?" Casey snapped.

"Princess, just admit it—you will never top the Derek. Even with top scores and nearly acne free skin, which, I see, has become more blemished each day."

Paul watched their exchange in silence. They got immersed into each other. Using words as swords, the two seemed to battle over _something. What _is it? Paul thought, intently watching the stepsiblings.

"Better than being a skirt-chasing pig like you." Casey spat out, "You think you'll ever amount to anything? Hockey won't last you forever. You'll blow out a knee, or an ankle, and _bam, _that's it, Derek. All you'll be are tired old dreams, tired old insults. You will be _nothing._" Casey was breathing hard, cheeks red, near to tears.

Derek actually stayed silent. "I don't have to put up with you shit, Casey. You _fucking _drama queen! You think life is all daises and roses? You think however much you prepare for your _extravagant _life is going to stop you from getting hit by a car, or getting mugged and killed? That's your _problem, _you _stuck up bitch, _you aren't ever going to really live, because you're _so _scared of getting hurt."

"Oh! Look at you, the _brilliant _Mr. Venturi! You're too damn scared to actually care about me. you bullshit your way into three months with me, and now you're trying to cover your tracks by treating me like shit _now!_"

Paul's brows rose at this. This 'battle to the death' reenactment was extremely interesting.

Derek laughed hollowly. "Oh, is that what you think I'm doing, Case? Really?"

"You sure as shit don't _love _me. So what would you call it, you prick?"

_Ah. There it is. _Paul thought to himself.

Derek shrugged. "A way to kill time, Princess."

That stung. He could see it in her eyes, and Derek felt a malevolent sort of glee in the tears that threatened to fall. He had won again.

Paul rapped his fist on his desk. "Okay children. Number one, no crying, and number two, you two are not leaving my office until we talk. And talk to you, I will."

"I don't want to do this anymore." Casey sniffled, her head bowed down.

Paul relented. "If we stop the session, I'm not sure we'd be able to get Derek in here again without force. But we can reschedule, Casey."

"Not that, Paul." Casey sniffled.

She turned to Derek. "We're through. And I mean it this time. Don't talk to me again."

She left the room with an earth-shattering slam. Derek slumped into the chair.

"So, Derek…"

"I'm not talking to you, either." Derek muttered.

"I'm guessing you've been dating for a while. Somehow this is all emotionally connected. And Derek, don't tell me it isn't on your end. I know you a bit better than you may think."

"That's vaguely creepy." Derek remarked, picking up his bag.

He headed to the door.

"You love her, don't you?" Paul said, and Derek froze. He didn't turn to look at him.

"And you don't want to tell her, but you know Casey. If you showed you cared, she'd hold on to you. So you've been treating her like this in order to push her away, but all it's done is make the both of you lose control. You want to control how you feel, Derek, and play the game you've been playing for too long—there's a safety in it, and in the end, you're just like Casey." Paul spoke fast, knowing Derek could leave any minute.

"And Casey's fighting for control because she wants to know the future, and you just don't make sense to you. She doesn't have the luxury of logic and practicality when it comes to you, Derek. And this three-sixty you've done is making her even confused and anxious, not to mention pained and stressful. _Think _about what you're doing, Derek. It isn't just Casey and yourself you're affecting, it's everyone else, too. I should know."

Derek turned around to look at the man. He hadn't noticed it before, but he looked wan and tired, not his usual calm and easygoing self.

"I don't love her. She's _Casey_."

"Yes you do, Derek. Yes, you do. And all I can say is if you don't own up to this, it could be a mistake you'll regret for a very, very long time."

Derek glared at him. "Will you cut it out with the ominous brooding bullshit?"

"Fine, Derek. Let her go. Let her find someone else. But you'll have no one to blame but yourself when you realize how much you wanted her in the end. She'll probably be better off with someone else, anyway." Paul said this last line idly.

Derek's eyes flared. "That isn't true."

"Isn't it?" Paul asked innocently.

"We're…we're…fine together."

Paul snorted. "_Fine?_"

"Okay, okay!" Derek said, "We're great together. God."

"And?" Paul prodded, "Just being great with you doesn't mean she wouldn't find someone else to make her happier."

Derek slipped. Something in him cracked, and he took a deep breath. "She does this thing with her hair when she's concentrating, y'know, and twirls it around her finger, and it drives me crazy. And her eyes, her eyes are just so _alive_, one look from her makes me feel so whipped, which sucks, because I hate feeling whipped, and when she kisses me my mind goes blank and I realize if I'd never have to think again and just stay in that moment forever—"

Derek scoffed. "Oh my _God, _do you _hear _me? I sound like some leading man in a Hilary Duff movie!"

"Derek," Paul began gently, "there's nothing wrong with caring for someone, certainly not with loving someone. Pushing it away isn't going to _make _it go away. Just because you don't necessarily feel comfortable being romantic all the time, or speaking about your feelings doesn't mean you can't care about someone. It's up to you how you choose to display your romantic and intimate feelings, but when you have a significant other, you need to know that sharing things like that is absolutely vital in a relationship."

Derek groaned. "Save me the Dr. Phil crap, _please._"

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, though, Derek?" Paul asked seriously.

"Yeah," Derek sighed. "I need to talk to Casey about my _feelings. _News Flash, Paul! Casey is a _big _fan of emotional talks!"

"She'll forgive you pretty easily then, I imagine." Paul said, with a grin.

Derek snorted. "I wish."

He got up and stopped at the door.

"Hey Paul?"

"Yes, Derek?"

"Whatever I just said _stays _in this room, right?"

"_Yes, _Derek."

"Good." The door closed silently.

Paul sighed. "Good _God, _their children are going to be nightmares. I'm switching schools as soon as these two graduate."


	9. Chapter 9

Second chapter to make up for this weekend.

C:

I hope you enjoy it.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

It didn't matter how much he screamed and slammed his fist against her door; Casey wouldn't let him in. When the kids and his parents came home, he grudgingly retreated into his room, drowning out Casey's sobs with his iPod.

Somebody told him dinner was ready. He muttered that he wasn't hungry, so please go away. Of course more questions ensued, which Derek helped figure out it was Edwin. Derek promised a slow and painful death if Edwin asked one more question, and his kid brother had backed off and scampered away.

The sobbing wasn't in earshot anymore.

He turned his iPod up anyway.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

At exactly nine-oh-two, George had come in to lecture Derek about responsibility and kindness.

Derek ignored him.

"Dad, I'm really not in the mood, okay? I had a really shitty day."

His father gave him a look regarding his language, but relented.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Ten-thirteen.

Edwin and Lizzie found reasons to check up on him, like he'd know the reason Casey was refusing to unlock her door.

He told them he didn't know.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Ten-thirty-six.

Nora came in, exhibiting a sort of rage that caused shivers to run up his back.

"I'm getting sick of all of this with you and Casey. I'd drag her in here to yell at her too, but she locked her door."

Derek asked why he couldn't have a lock on _his _door, and Nora simply grew tight-lipped and slammed his bedroom door.

Ooooooooooooooooooooo

Twelve-fifty. Casey would have to get hungry sometime.

He listened for every step, every breath.

He heard her go down to the kitchen. Not one to waste an opportunity, he darted out of his own room and into hers, locking the door behind him.

He wanted her to realize what it felt like.

Twelve-fifty-five.

Casey jiggled the doorknob. It grew silent.

"_Derek!" _ she whispered fiercely, balancing a glass of milk and peanut butter and crackers.

He unlocked the door, opening it a crack.

"I need to talk to you." He whispered.

Casey snorted.

"I won't let you in if you won't let me talk." he said.

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Open up the damn door. It's freezing in here."

He sat on her bed, daring her to kick him out.

She eyed him wearily.

Locked the door.

Derek smiled.

"I talked to Paul."

Casey munched on a cracker.

"And, um…"

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. She didn't care.

"Well, what he said was—"

Crunch.

Casey's clear disinterest ignited his anger.

"Goddamn it, Casey! I'm trying to talk to you!"

She stopped chewing, took a sip of her milk.

"What did you do today that makes you even remotely worthy of gaining my attention?"

_Who's egotistical now? _Derek thought bitterly. Instead, he said, "I'm serious, Casey. I'm not good with this."

"With what?"

"You know. The…the…mushy lovey-dovey bullshit." He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar tightness of anxiety and panic curling up into a ball in the pit of his stomach. "Being…honest, I guess."

Casey stayed silent.

"You know…talking…about…" This was all leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Casey offered no sympathy to his obvious struggling.

"Emotional stuff! God!" he said quickly, in an outburst.

"It's not like I didn't know that," stated Casey dryly.

Derek sighed, frustrated. He tried another approach. "You were right, Casey."

_That _peaked her interest. "Oh?"

He held his eyes on his hands. "You said," _Deep breath, Venturi_. "You said I was scared to care for you."

"A-and. Um. I…I am." God, could he sound any more of a retard?

"What are you saying, Derek?" Casey asked, slightly surprised, but mostly curious.

He looked at her, _really_ looked at her. He saw a beautiful, talented girl he was otherwise smitten with. Yes, she was a smartass, yes, she was the bane of his existence, and yes, half the time he'd probably get extremely annoyed with her. It _was _Casey, after all.

He took a breath. "Case, I love you."

Casey had turned white. She dropped the cracker she was munching on and just stared at the boy parallel to her, half wondering why she hadn't thought of it before, and half thinking it was a cruel joke.

"…Casey?"

"Der….Derek. You need to go."

"Wait, _what?"_

"I don't even know if I believe you, Derek. Seriously. This is way too much to process in one night."

He leaned over, kissed her hard, his hands buried in her hair.

"You taste like peanut butter," is all he said as he got up.

Casey stared at him dazedly as he left. She went from hopeful to despair to suicidal mourning to indifference to a nervous, thirteen-year-old crush mentality. All in one day. God, she was so tired.

_She didn't pull back..._ Derek thought.

_Damn boyfriends, being all cute and unpredictable, _Casey thought, her lips still tingling and butterflies erupting in her stomach.

_She didn't pull back!_ Derek thought again in glee.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm in New York and the hotel WiFi's suck ass.

This is chapter ten, and I am _very, very, very _sorry I couldn't get it to you sooner!

We're nearing the end of Versimilitude, my dear readers.

Stay tuned for the epilogue!

Oooooooooooooooo

Paul allowed a content sigh to slip past his lips as he took a sip from his coffee mug. Mornings like this were his favorite. There was no one to bother him at this hour, and so he could spend a decent hour or some enjoying his coffee and his silence.

He supposed that he could spend time straightening the papers strewn across his desk, or take the trash out (which was already overflowing), or brush up on the case files of the kids he saw tomorrow, or even work ahead in his online psych class (the latter he took for fun; it also gave the school a reason to keep him). It _was_ an in-service day, after all.

_Nah, _he thought, smiling, _mornings like this are for coffee and silence._

After that thought, his door was opened with such force the frames on his walls shook. Paul sighed. That could only mean one thing.

"_Paul!"_

Casey.

The girl was breathing heavily, her face bare of makeup. Her dark circles were more prominent; her cheekbones jutted out, stretching her skin. Her hair was a mass of dark strands that were as stressed as she was.

She closed the door softly, slumping down into a chair.

Casey took a shaky breath, digging her blue eyes into his own chocolate ones. "Paul," she began, "What I am about to say _never_ leaves this room."

Paul had a good idea of where this was going.

"Derek," Paul stated simply.

Casey nodded. "He told me something last night."

Paul had to approach this carefully. "Oh? Did he insult you again?"

"No! He didn't. Frankly, it would have been much easier if he had, but he didn't, Paul." Casey was wringing her hands as if it would snap her out of the nightmare she felt she was in.

"What did he do?" Paul asked, knowing more or less what her answer would be.

"He…" Casey trailed off. "Derek…told me he…"

Pause. Paul had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. This had all been coming for a long, long time.

"He told me he loved me." Casey said, in such a quiet whisper that Paul almost missed it.

"I'm sure he cares about you, Casey. After all, you do live together."

Paul had to approach this as obliviously and moronically as possible.

"No, no, not like _that, _Paul. Like…" Casey trailed off.

"_Ohhh." _Paul drawled, keeping up the charade that he had as much common sense as a slug.

Casey looked at him, a slow blush growing across her face.

"Well, do you love _him?_"Paul asked bluntly.

Casey looked alarmed at first, and screamed, "Oh, _God, no!_"

Paul simply gave her a look that said, _Oh yeah?_

Casey relented. "I…I…I don't know."

But that was a lie; she _did _know, and it was eating away at her; guilt and anxiety and pain all attacked her like a ravenous rabid beast, and she just wanted _out. _How was she supposed to tell him? This was all a bad idea.

"I think he's lying." Casey said, drawing the attention away from her and onto Derek.

Paul laughed. Actually _laughed_.

_Good God,_ Paul thought, _how blind_ is _this girl?_

"Casey," Paul said, still in a mild fit of giggles, "Let's just say that not even Derek Venturi could outsmart some of the world's most famous and successful psychologists, okay?"

Casey gazed at the giggling man with a slacked jaw. Derek had _told _Paul? _Her _Derek? And…and…_he wasn't lying?!_

"Wow…" Casey breathed, still dazed.

Casey left Paul still giggling.

Oooooooooooooooo

Casey walked home, the cold biting her skin. Even though Derek was telling the truth, she still wasn't sure. Derek could be pretty damn unbearable, and if they broke up, they'd have to live door-to-door for the remainder of the year remembering everything that had happened, and everything that could have been.

But things were awkward now already; what was wrong with making a fix, albeit a temporary one? Casey sighed. It could just make things worse. And things really couldn't afford to get much worse.

She looked at her house appearing in the distance. It looked foreboding, menacing.

Casey knew, ironically, that all of her answers lied with Derek, and as much as she felt she couldn't handle him, she couldn't handle not knowing what to do, either.

So she walked up the steps to her door, took a deep breath, and entered.

Oooooooooooooooo

Derek, bleary eyed and nearly comatose, stumbled down the stairs in search of a beverage. The second his feet touched the bottom step, Casey came in looking breathless.

Before he could stop himself he chided, "Aww, did Space Case forget we had no school today? Nice look, by the way. It suits your insane, control-freak keener personality." Derek, of course, would never admit to Casey that he had, indeed, forgotten about the in-service day until she'd come through the door. He was hit with anxiety when he realized he had to spend the day with Casey. Alone. After he'd told her he _loved _her.

"I didn't forget, _Derek_, I just needed to talk to Paul." Casey snapped, slipping into her vicious banter with him all too easily.

Derek simply grunted at this. The longer they drew this out, the quicker the kids would be up.

"I need to talk to you later, anyway." Casey muttered irritably, "After everyone's gone."

Casey left him standing there, and crawled into bed. Her nights had been so _short _lately. Thank God for in-service days.

Oooooooooooooooo

Nora, George, Edwin, Lizzie and Marti all screamed, "_No fighting!" _at the top of their lungs before they left, effectively rousing Derek and Casey out of their slumbers.

Derek stared at the ceiling as he heard the cars leave.

_Shit. _Casey thought, turning on her side and squeezing her eyes shut, attempting to will fatigue to overcome her. No go.

She surrendered to the inevitable and planned her outfit in her mind.

She brushed her tangled mass of hair, washed her face, brushed her teeth. Pulled some jeans on, a long-sleeved form-fitting shirt. Polka-dotted socks.

Staring at herself in the mirror, Casey forced herself out of her room.

Derek was sitting at the table, tiredly sipping a glass of orange juice. He had been pondering on the natural acids of oranges, and if it was possible for those acids to somehow reach his spine and sever it completely, thus ending his life.

He wasn't dead, and he could hear Casey walking into the kitchen.

"Want some pancakes?" Casey asked lightly, pulling out the mix.

"Sure." He said, attempting to be just as nonchalant.

"Chocolate chip?"

"That'd be cool." Nonchalant. Totally.

"Get the chocolate chips."

"Sure." Derek said. He reached into the cupboard, and handed the bag to Casey. His hand lightly brushed against hers, and he felt himself stiffen at her touch.

"Thanks." Casey said, forcing a smile on her face, uncertainty evident in her eyes.

The next twenty minutes were spent in silence. They moved mechanically, helping each other with the pancakes as if it required a great deal of thought.

After six pancakes lay piled on a plate, Casey dropped the pan into the sink and announced, "Done."

There was no interruption into the silence. They both chewed slowly on the pancakes.

Derek made the mistake of looking up, and he saw the thin glob of chocolate on her chin; he reached out, swiped it with his index finger. She froze.

"Chocolate." He explained, licking the chocolate off his finger.

"Y-yeah." Casey managed.

Silence.

"I talked to Paul," Casey blurted out.

Derek eyed her, the gnawing feeling in his gut growing stronger.

"Basically…he…um…told me you weren't…lying. About…you know."

Derek focused on his pancakes. "So what are you going to do?"

He hadn't realized it'd escaped his mouth until she replied.

"It depends."

He looked at her. "Depends on what?"

Casey sighed, aching for a list to read off of.

"Well…on how well you treat me. And…um…the pros and cons I guess."

Derek smirked. "Pros: Me. And you. In the same house. All the time. Plus I'm insanely hot. Cons: none."

Casey rolled her eyes. "_No._ Cons. We don't get along. You're moody. We have to be careful, _all _the time. And if we…don't last, then we'll have be around each other regardless of _how _it ends."

Derek scoffed. "I am not moody. _You're _moody."

"You are too." Derek let this go and simply looked at her.

"So does this mean…?"

"I…"

"Casey. I'm not going to be an asshole to you again. Well, I am, but I'll be more endearing about it."

Casey scoffed, fighting the smile that was growing upon her lips.

Derek stood up, walking to her. He held his lips millimeters from her ear.

"_Can I kiss you now?" _

She turned and met his lips with her own.

"Couch," he whispered, and took her hand within his.

They collapsed upon the softness of the couch, wrapped in an embrace and lost in their own world.

"_Derek…"_

"_Hm?"_

"_I love you too."_


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue. I'm considering a sequel. Let me know if I should or not. Also, I have a oneshot I'll be writing soon.

Thanks to all my readers/watchers. It really does mean a lot to me.

3

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Oh, Wade," the girl shouted in a dramatic fashion only meant for the Lifetime channel, "I love you!"_

"_Baby, baby, I love you too! You mean everything to me!" shouted her counterpart, undoubtedly gagging at his words or wondering if his boyfriend would be late after this scene._

"_You mean it? You don't care if my mom is marrying your dad?" the girl yelled hopefully, eyes glittering like a drug addict in a narcotics warehouse._

"_Of course I don't!" Wade yells back, his throat probably sore by this point, but hey, he's getting paid—maybe he can take The Boyfriend on a date._

Nora sighed, tears glittering in her eyes. Unrequited love—it got her every time. The movie, appropriately titled _Our Stepchildren's Secret_, had been a long harrowing tale of a girl and a boy thrown together by marriage—and consequently falling in love.

George, who had been snoring beside her throughout the whole film, was awakened by her shaking.

Nora looked at him, a realization dawning upon her. "Georgie," She said, "You don't think that'll happen to the kids?"

"Wha?" George mumbled groggily.

"Romantic feelings?" Nora asked patiently, brushing back his hair.

"Of course not, Nora. Derek and Casey hate each other, and Edwin and Lizzie are best friends. With our luck, _they'll_ start hating each other too."

George fluffed his pillows and slipped back into sleep easily. Nora watched her sleeping husband, jealous of his ability to slip into a delusion so easily. She had a nagging feeling something big was coming. Chances are, she wouldn't like it.

_Still, _Nora though, scoffing at herself, _Derek and Casey? Are you _crazy, _woman?_

Nora pondered over this. it simply wasn't logical.

"I have nothing to worry about," Nora told herself reluctantly, and turned off the TV.

Her worries whispered her into sleep.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Casey lay curled in his arms, her cheek against his. Her hand idly played with his; no words were spoken, and none were needed. They were simply enjoying each other's presence. Things were far from perfect in their relationship, both Derek and Casey knew, but they had come to an understanding, and it had taken a considerable amount of stress off the both of them.

"Do you ever think we'll tell Mom and George?" Casey asked out loud. It was mostly a rhetorical question.

"I don't know," Derek said, kissing her cheek. "Maybe."

"I suppose they deserve to know," Casey sighed.

"Hmm." Derek mused, "I don't think I want to share you just yet."

"You know, I'm strangely okay with that." Casey remarked.

"Good." Derek whispered huskily in her ear, "Because I don't plan on ever sharing you."

"Is that your way of saying you care, Derek Venturi?" Casey said in a sing-songy voice.

"Maybe," he mumbled into her neck, nibbling on her skin.

He bit, and she gasped. Turning over, she lay on his body, eyeing him.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Venturi?" Cased asked in mock horror.

Derek smirked. "Maybe. Will you let me?"

Casey shot a sly grin at him. "Maybe someday, Venturi. Someday."

Derek knew that was a yes.

"Next time the family's out?"

"You'll have to spoil me first." Casey purred.

"Don't worry." Derek said, tracing circles on her skin, "We'll make it memorable. Anything you want, Case."

"I'll hold you to that," Casey whispered, settling into his arms again.

"Good _night_, Case."

Oblivious to Nora's impending worries and realizations, they slept soundly. Why wouldn't they? At the moment, everything was nauseatingly perfect.

Romance swept them away into a comfortable slumber.

It really was a Lifetime happily-ever-after.


End file.
